


Where Lost Things Go

by ItsYaBoiKeith (PetalsAndPurity)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Abuse, James is so pure, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Late at Night, M/M, More fluff than angst, Motorcycle ride, Sad Keith (Voltron), james cheers him up, precious boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-27 18:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19386784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetalsAndPurity/pseuds/ItsYaBoiKeith
Summary: “Where are we going?” Keith asked, his small voice barely audible over the sound of the howling wind. He seemed reluctant to leave the sanctuary of James’s house. It was the place he frequently took refuge in, when the hits and insults from his own home became to harsh, too much for his already weighted shoulders to bear.“On an adventure.”





	Where Lost Things Go

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to Lights' Skin and Earth acoustic collection and I ended up writing this. The songs are so creative and really inspired me. Especially Savage and Skydiving.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! :D

Keith arrived at James's door a paradox.

He was smiling, his lips pulled so tightly that flashes of his teeth poked through, his cheeks bunched up and causing the fresh tear-tracks trailing down them to glint in the moonlight. His eyes were crinkled from the smile, and yet those iris's James always found himself lost in were simply an abyss of cold darkness, of fear and despair. His skin was pale, and yet blotched with ink-like stains. He seemed so happy, yet so broken. 

James took his hands carefully, so worried that his fragile skin and bones would shatter at his touch. And Keith did shatter; his smile and facade of strength melted as soon as his cold skin came into contact with James's warmth, caving into his touch and falling into his shoulder. James held him, the door still open, letting the cold of the night seep into his house. He was glad his parents were away on another business trip, or they'd be scolding him for wasting money letting the heat out, but that problem seemed minuscule to what had happened to Keith. 

"Who hurt you?" James whispered, even though he could already guess. He kept his tone quiet as he slowly ran his hand through Keith's tangled locks of hair, worried that the slightest noise or sudden movement would send Keith turning heel and disappearing back into the harsh night, as he had done many times before. 

"It doesn't matter," Keith mumbled, and James tightened his grip, fury pulsing through his veins. Not only because someone thought that they had the right to _hurt_ Keith, but also because Keith felt like it wasn't important. Like _he_ wasn't important. 

And though James wanted to go straight to Keith's house and give who he _knew_ had hurt his boyfriend what they deserved, he also didn't want to pry. He knew Keith didn't like James getting tangled up in his life, not the dark parts of it, even though he wouldn't hesitate to do the same for James when he was having trouble with his own family. 

James decided there and then that Keith needed an escape. A way out of his mind, if for a few hours. To lose himself in the moment, to find a way to make him realise that he _was_ important, even if the realisation only lasted for the night. 

It was that thought that had him tying his shoes and grabbing his keys. Keith watched him, tears still dribbling down his cheeks, luminescent streaks like glowing cracks against his ivory skin. James gripped onto his hand, finding it to be still too cold. His flimsy, second-hand jacket was unable to ward off the brutal cold of the night, so James shrugged off his hoodie and handed it to Keith, grabbing one of his own jackets for himself. Keith puts it on underneath his jacket, curling the sleeves over his palms. 

James grabbed two helmets, handing one to Keith. 

"Where are we going?" Keith asked, his small voice barely audible over the sound of the howling wind. He seemed reluctant to leave the sanctuary of James's house. It was the place he frequently took refuge in, when the hits and insults from his own home became too harsh, too much for his already weighted shoulders to bear. 

"On an adventure," was all James said, grabbing his hand and dragging him outside, locking the door behind him. Despite his doubts, Keith followed, because like James would to Keith, Keith trusted James wholeheartedly. 

The world around them was completely silent, only to be broken by the hum of James's engine. Keith jumped on behind him, wrapping his arms around James's waist, chin resting on their shoulder, their helmets thunking together.

"An adventure?" He mused, and though James could hear a hint of _Keith_ , he could still hear the crack in his voice, the weary exhaustion in his tone. He could still feel how Keith's body quaked, not entirely from the cold anymore, behind him.

"An adventure," James confirmed, not falling for Keith's tricks and slipping, letting him know what he had in store. He knew Keith hated surprises, hated the unknown, but James couldn't help it; he had been anticipating the moment he would be able to do this ever since he first discovered the secret place just a few days ago.

They set off into the night, the cold wind battering them as they drove through the abandoned streets, streetlights flittering past them in flashes, guiding their way through the darkness.

He goes through the maze of small streets, all the shops had closed up with bars covering their windows, and their neon signs since switched off. A few teenagers, not far from their age, walked down the streets, their laughter and shouts echoing through the silence as they flashed past.

Even on their bikes, the world seemed an eternity away, as all James focused on was going in the right direction, and the feeling of Keith holding onto him so tightly, as though he was afraid he'd slip away.

He slows as they pass down an alleyway, pulling to a stop just at the gate near the back of a house. A cat shot out from the skip kept by the open iron gate, shooting through the alley so quickly James questioned whether it was real.

He locked up his bike and removed his helmet, feeling the first patterings of rain begin to fall around them. He takes Keith's hand once more, leading him through the rusted gates. Keith's heels scrape against the cobblestone.

James stops and turns, seeing Keith, a small frown creasing over his features.

"Isn't that someone's garden?" Keith questioned, hand moving to James's arm, gripping tightly. 

"No." James shook his head. "It's a public garden, but not many people know it's here. I found it not long ago. It's okay; let me show you."

Keith nodded and let James drag him through, over a small wooden bridge laid above a rippling stream, and into a small meadow. To their right was an entrance to a small chapel, the stone archway covered in vines and moss to look almost like something from a fairytale. 

Keith marvelled at the little sanctuary James had brought him to, a small opening of grass and trees with little lanterns dotted around and hanging from branches, unlit. James pulls out his lighter and begins to light each one. 

Slowly, the area begins to fill with warm, flickering light. When James finishes lighting the final one, he turns and almost stumbles at the sight of Keith. 

The red light lapped at his pale skin, bathing it in colour and accentuating his features. The shadows lapped at the crevices and edges of his face, erasing the sharpness that stress had harshly carved into him. His eyes sparked with flashes of red and orange as he watched, swollen lips parted, in awe at his surroundings. 

James remembered being the exact same way when he had discovered the place, thrown back by the beauty of the nature left so wild in such a cold, concrete city. But this time, he wasn't thrown back by the beauty of the secret meadow. No, he was enraptured by the boy standing before him. 

"James, it's beautiful," he spoke quietly, his voice being carried with the whisper of the wind. 

James stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Keith's stomach, pulling him close and cradling him, leaning a head on his shoulder and humming quietly. The gentle stream in front of them rippled and glistened in the night, mimicking the flames in the lanterns as droplets of rain fell into the water. 

“I know something more beautiful,” James replied with a smirk, only to be shoved back.

“How cliche of you, Mr. Griffin,” Keith muttered, grumbled voice ruined by the giggles he failed to suppress. 

“And the rest of this isn’t?” James laughed too, softly, worried he’d disrupt the calm settled over them. “Besides, like you can complain, _you’re_ the one that always cries when we watch a romantic movie,” he teased, tapping Keith on the nose. 

It scrunched up as Keith muttered: “how do you know? You insist on putting one on then you fall asleep halfway through!”

“I don’t usually need to do much _insisting_ , though, do I? And I only offer to put it on because I know my boyfriend’s a _sap._ ”

Keith shoved James playfully. James pushed back, and after a few seconds, they began to tussle, Keith tackling James to the ground and falling with him, if only to hold his hand behind Keith’s head so he doesn’t hurt himself on the tumble to the ground. They roll in the glass in fits of laughter as they wrestled, careful not to hurt the other, barely using any force against each other. 

Keith gets the upper hand, mainly because James lets him, and he’s so thankful he did let Keith win this time. He had the perfect view of Keith, pale skin and tousled onyx hair fitting with the speckle of stars in the charcoal sky above. James wished he had his camera on him, to capture the pure contempt on Keith’s features, how for once his face wasn’t creased with dark lines of worry, or eyes diverted to the ground out of self-consciousness caused by the constant beatings and berating he’d get back at what he _calls_ home. 

In reality, _this_ was Keith’s home. Wherever he and James were, wherever he was _happy_ , just as James wanted him to be. 

He thread a hand in Keith’s hair, dampened from the rain, his fingers gripping so gently, easing him closer. 

And as they came together, the rain pouring down on them both, their lips locking together with such a warmth the galaxies above, the grass below and everything in between began to melt around them, until it was just their touch, their gentle breaths and the feeling of the fabric on their fingertips, that remained in their conscience. 

They revelled in each other until the darkness cleared and the gentle rays of the sun began to bathe them in warmth. The subtle tweets of birds beginning to wake surrounded them. Keith stirred too, cradled in James’s arms, head rested on his chest. James kissed his forehead, and he lifted himself up to look at James, eyes still bleary from sleep. 

“Let’s head back,” James mumbled, though he hated to say it, wincing as he watched Keith’s expression drop into one of uncertainty. Because for Keith, everything was as temporary as the beginning dustings of snow in December, as temporary as the flames in the lamps surrounding them, now having since ceased. 

But, just as he was certain that the sun would rise every morning and fall every night, he could be just as certain that though the rest of his life everything may come and go like the seasons, James would always be here.

**Author's Note:**

> Still don't know how to end these sorts of things but hey, I tried. I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> The location was actually inspired by a secret garden my new tutor for my uni I'm going to showed me and a few students. It was beautiful and he said it was a great place to get writing done because no one knows it's there, so it's really quiet compared to the busy city. I can't wait to visit there and do some writing myself :)
> 
> Come say hi to me here!: https://petalsandpurity.tumblr.com/


End file.
